


Rescue and Revelations

by HalfshellVenus



Category: Prison Break
Genre: Incest, M/M, Male Slash, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-09-23
Updated: 2005-10-30
Packaged: 2018-04-05 10:23:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,091
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4176300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HalfshellVenus/pseuds/HalfshellVenus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lincoln steps in for Michael, and gets more than he bargained for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Saving Michael

**Author's Note:**

> This was my first slash story (the first in the fandom too, I think), and it shows. Still, despite the cliches, I think it's hot and worth sharing.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lincoln steps in for Michael, and gets more than he bargained for.

x-x-x-x-x 

Lincoln had noticed Michael going into the work shed a few minutes ago, and that the work area seemed a little low on workers. Making an excuse to the guard, he moved toward the shed, slowing in the doorway to scope out the situation.

Michael was the focus of three of GenPop’s uglier long-term residents. Each hoping to work a long-term arrangement, they made their bids. “It’s gonna happen, Fish,” Scranton breathed. “Could be me, could be someone else. Maybe somebody not so gentle, like Fist here. Now’s your chance to choose. Better make up your mind.” Michael’s eyes darted around the shed, looking for escape or rescue. He felt a sarcastic retort pushing its way out when Lincoln stepped out of the shadows.

“What’s going on here? You boys lost?” Lincoln said.

“We were just having a discussion with Fish here,” said Bacchi. “Helping him to… weigh his options.”

“Really?” Lincoln asked. He moved in closer and stepped between Michael and his admirers. “Fish doesn’t have any options.” Lincoln smiled coldly. “Fish is mine.”

“C’mon man, you’re on the Row. It’s not like you can do much with him,” Bacchi said. “It’s a waste of good tail.”

“Waste of two pieces of good tail,” The Fist muttered.

Michael moved closer to Lincoln, hooking his right arm around his brother’s massive chest. “Who says it’s a waste?” he said.

“You think no-one’s been watching you, Fish? You wouldn’t know the first thing to do with a guy like that,” grumbled Scranton.

Michael’s eyes flashed, burying a sudden surge of panic. “The hell I don’t,” he shot back. He leaned forward, nibbling at the side of Lincoln’s neck, then captured an earlobe with his teeth and rolled it around his tongue. He felt a short, rumbling groan in Lincoln’s chest, which made him lavish more attention on his ear before releasing it. He brushed his fingers over a nipple, then rested his head against Lincoln’s neck.

“You were saying?” Lincoln put his hand on Michael’s arm, staring the other prisoners down.

“You won’t have him for long, hotshot. Your days are numbered,” grunted The Fist. He strode carelessly out the door into the yard, and the others followed slowly.

“Thanks,” Michael said softly. “Anytime,” said Lincoln, his eyes still on the door.

“That groan was a nice touch,” smiled Michael. “Very authentic.”

“Authentic, hell,” said Lincoln. “You were sucking on my earlobe.”

Michael smiled at that. “That good, huh?” he asked. “It’s probably been awhile, hasn’t it?” Lincoln blinked.

Michael’s hand moved lower, slowly crossing Lincoln’s stomach as his left hand moved to his brother’s chest. Lincoln gasped, and stiffened. Michael stroked lazily around the waistband of his brother’s pants, dipping slightly under the fabric, as he listened to Lincoln’s breathing become shorter and more desperate. He slid his hand all the way down, brushing the fabric, as Lincoln suddenly shuddered and groaned in release. Michael kissed his shoulder through the work shirt, and wrapped his arms around his brother in contentment.

After a few minutes, Lincoln’s breathing quieted down. “That was a surprise,” he said softly.

“Seemed like you needed it,” Michael said. “My pleasure.” He smiled to himself.

“Want me to return the favor?” Lincoln asked quietly. Michael felt a sudden heat in his stomach. “That would be great,” he answered, “but I wasn’t expecting it.”

Lincoln let out a short laugh. He turned around slowly, and put his hands on Michael’s shoulders. Leaning around to his neck, he mouthed the skin there with light suction, rubbing his right hand down along Michael’s waist. Michael tipped his head slightly, lost in the sensations and feeling suddenly light-headed. “Is this good?” whispered Lincoln, flicking his tongue against the side of Michael’s neck.

“Yes,” breathed Michael. “A kiss would be better,” he murmured, before he had time to consider the wisdom of what he was saying. Lincoln’s head came up. “Is that what you want?” he asked, surprised. “If it’s okay,” Michael replied. Lincoln searched his eyes for a moment, and then abandoned all hope of logic. Leaning forward, he touched his mouth to Michael’s tentatively. Michael’s lips tingled, his hands reaching up to touch Lincoln’s face and pull him in closer. The kisses became more ardent, and Lincoln cupped the back of Michael’s head with one hand while the other slid down to caress his ass, then moved around to the front of Michael’s pants. A few gentle strokes was all it took, and Michael opened his mouth under Lincoln’s as he came, welcoming the delicately probing tongue and the hardening of Lincoln’s arms around him.

They stood for awhile, Michael trembling as Lincoln held him, and the sounds from the yard filtered into the shed.

“We’re gonna be missed soon,” Lincoln said quietly. They separated, pulling their shirts out of their pants to cover any evidence. Suddenly, neither was sure where to look.

“I—” Lincoln began. “Don’t say it,” said Michael. “I’m not sorry, and I’d do it all over again if I could.”

“I just want to be sure I’m not taking advantage of you,” Lincoln said quietly. Michael smiled mischievously over his shoulder, as he made his way to the door. “What makes you sure you’re the one taking advantage?”

Huh, Lincoln thought. He gathered the shovel he’d said he needed, and stepped out into the blinding sunlight, his head spinning from more than the glare.

 

\--/--


	2. Turning The Tables

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lincoln doesn’t like not knowing what’s going on.

x-x-x-x-x

Michael found Lincoln the next day during P.I., painting in the hallway.

“Feel better today?” he asked. The corners of his mouth quirked up, and his smile was not entirely innocent.

“Ye-es…” Lincoln said uncertainly. The look Michael was giving him made him uneasy.

He stepped closer, unwilling to be intimidated. “Michael,” he said. “Are you fucking with my head?”

He leaned around to look closer when Michael didn’t respond to that. “Michael!” he said again.

Michael had a dreamy look in his eyes, which disappeared as he jerked himself back to the present. “I’m sorry—my mind went someplace else when you said that.”

Lincoln frowned a little. “I’ll just bet,” he said.

Michael laughed a little. ‘You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

“You don’t seem to have a problem with it,” Lincoln said. He wasn’t sure why, but it was true.

“Are you kidding?” Michael said. “I’ve been waiting my whole life to get a piece of you. Just too many other people standing in line.”

Lincoln just stared. Was he missing something here? Michael was either getting an enormous charge out of messing with him, or… he was serious.

Which was it?

Michael leaned into him, putting an arm around his waist. “I’m not sure why you’ve been so neglected in here—maybe the other prisoners are blind. But it doesn’t have to be that way.”

Lincoln was getting a little annoyed at being toyed with. Or teased. Or propositioned. Whatever the hell was going on here.

_Fine,_ he thought. _Two can play at that game._

He looked around for the guard, and then guided Michael around the corner.

“So you’re going to make it your personal mission to take care of me?” Lincoln asked. He stroked his hands up Michael’s sides.

Michael just looked at him for a second, eyes huge and dark. Then he launched himself at Lincoln, covering his mouth with hot kisses.

“Mmmph!” Lincoln found himself up against the wall with Michael writhing against him, and wondered just exactly what he had started. When Michael started to grind against his hips and lick the inside of his mouth, he stopped thinking altogether.

There was definitely no question of whether Michael wanted this. He clearly did. A lot. 

Lincoln gave himself over to Michael’s kisses. _God, this felt good._ Not just having a warm, real body rubbing up against him, or the fact that Michael was an incredible kisser. Although, _damn._

No, this had more to do with being _desired_ by someone else. It had been a long time since Lincoln remembered that feeling. And god, life in prison was so lonely. Lonely both mentally and physically.

Lincoln growled deep in his throat, and his hands slid down and grabbed Michael’s ass. It was so muscular and tight and _delicious._

He almost choked at that thought. He had never had thoughts like those until after the first six months in prison, and then only a few times—when he started to think about what he could choose rather than have taken from him. He wasn’t an easy guy to overpower, but with enough prisoners ganging up on him it had happened a couple of times. It was easier when it was mutual, when you could select your own partner.

Before he was confined to The Row, Lincoln’s short stint in GenPop had made him aware of what it is to be surrounded only by men, and to become so desperate over time that you started to separate the men into fuckable or not, into parts that were hot or not. Pretty soon, even he could spot a set of abs worth looking at, or a nice pair of shoulders, or most of all, a really nice ass. 

There was no doubt about it—Michael had a world-class ass. And he was wrapped around Lincoln right now, kissing the life out of him and just waiting to worship him if only Lincoln would let him.

He knew he shouldn’t. But he loved Michael far too much. In those final years at home, he had denied Michael too much of his attention, preoccupied with other problems like a pregnant girlfriend and a growing drug habit. 

He owed Michael the chance to be loved intimately, truly loved down to the center of his being. It wouldn’t make sense to anyone else, he knew, and the thought had shocked him the first time Michael had shown interest in it. But now he understood. They hadn’t had a normal life, and they weren’t about to start now. Rules be damned. 

He held Michael tighter, and kissed him in passionate bursts as Michael began to shake. “I hate” _kiss_ “being stuck here” _kiss_ “in public all the time.” _lick_ “I could” _kiss_ “fuck you through the floor” _kiss_ “right now.”

Michael whimpered against his mouth when he said that, and gasped in unexpected climax. 

_Damn, that was easy,_ Lincoln thought. But in a way, that part was kind of nice. He kissed Michael tenderly and rubbed his back, pulling Michael’s head down against his shoulder and letting him catch his breath. He held him quietly, just reveling in the simple pleasure of that embrace.

In a moment, Michael lifted his head up and gazed at Lincoln seriously. Lincoln smiled softly, and Michael’s eyes seemed to catch fire.

He unzipped Lincoln’s worksuit swiftly, and had his mouth wrapped around him before Lincoln realized what was happening. Michael’s hands came around to hold Lincoln’s hips and ass, clinging onto him like a drowning man as he tongued and sucked him desperately. Lincoln came suddenly, in a harsh moment of overwhelming sensation, and bent over Michael, stroking his head and trying not to fall over.

Michael pressed his face against Lincoln’s hip, inhaling the heat and the scent of arousal, then rose up and zipped Lincoln back together.

He laid his head on Lincoln’s chest for a moment, eyes closed and mouth curved in a blissful smile that took hold in Lincoln’s heart. _God, I just love him,_ Lincoln thought. He leaned his head against Michael’s and rocked him a little, until Michael stood up again.

“Better get back,” Michael said, and Lincoln nodded regretfully. Michael gave him one last gentle kiss, then pushed a paint rag through a front belt loop and stepped around the corner.

Lincoln took a deep breath, looking around for inspiration.

There was a ladder. He took it, and maneuvered it carefully out into the main hall, making his face as bland as possible even as he felt the flush in his cheeks and the tingling that remained in his lips and groin.

He didn’t dare look at Michael. But he could feel him, even from across the hall, and the air between them felt charged with electrical pulses.

They were bound together now, more than ever before, and he felt a kind of apprehension at the thought of losing that.

The taste and smell of Michael lingered on Lincoln’s senses, a reminder of his presence and devotion. 

He was an inescapable part of who Lincoln was.

He was imprinted now on Lincoln’s soul.

_\----- fin -----_


End file.
